Be glad, and your friends are many;
Be sad, and you lose them all-
there are none to decline your neetar’d wine,
but alone you must drink life’s gall.
Feast, and your halls are crowded;
Fast, and the world goes by.
Succeed and give, and it helps you live,
but no man can help you die.
There is room in the halls of pleasure
For a large and lordly train,
But one by one we must all file on
Through the narrow aisles of pain.
Her Two Cents